The night was deep.
In front of the cabins named Saturday and Sunday, the campfire blazed brightly.
The bright flames illuminated the faces of the indigenous people, and the aroma wafting from the clay pot made the hungry crowd swallow hard, staring intently at the boiling barley porridge inside the pot.
Saturday brought out a small table he frequently used from inside the house, placing it beside the campfire, and arranged a row of clay bowls on it.
After resting in the afternoon, he diligently completed the task Sunday had handed over to him, burying the three corpses deeply in the forest soil.
Then Saturday herded the sheep for a while, wandered around the fields, and observed how Sunday treated the indigenous people.
Only when Sunday went to the cave, did he manage to take over this group of indigenous people, preparing a meal for them that was "neither filling nor enough to cause starvation."
...
